In the 1980s the UK was polarised. Thatcherism reigned as the Conservative party sought to quash the power of the trade unions and establish a market based on the free movement of labour and capital. In the wealthy parts of England, particularly the south-east, this was a welcome opportunity to prosper. Business flourished and the economy grew. But in the industrial heartlands, discontent brimmed as strikes took hold. Miners, steelworkers and jobless public sector workers locked horns with a government convinced these groups no longer had a place in modern Britain.

In Jesus’ world the north and the south were estranged in a similar divide. The south east (Judea) – home to the Jewish capital Jerusalem – was the powerhouse of its political and religious establishment, while the northern region of Galilee was a hotbed of political revolution. As we step gingerly into chapters 16 – 20 of Matthew, the politics of geography becomes all-important.

The Psalms, for me, represent a much more personal element of the Israelite scriptures. Written often in the first person, they relive great frustration, deep anguish, fervent hope and the ecstasy of military victory. But what do these songs and poems, penned thousands of years ago, do for us?

Firstly, they tell us a great deal about the culture of ancient Israel, which in turn will help us when we come to interpret many of these other less emotive texts. The vast majority of Psalms 1-41 speak in some way of military engagement, either in victory, or defeat. Always there are enemies closing in, trials of disaster round the corner and appeals to God for deliverance. Of course, in the wake of victory the credit goes to God for routing the enemies and preserving the life of the psalmist.

In the majority of these Psalms, God is the judge and the deliverer; redeemer of the oppressed and liberator of his people. Perhaps inevitably, David and his Israelite kingship always come out as righteous, his enemies inevitably ridden with disgrace and so his God is also somewhat tribal. David, it appears, is convinced that God is perpetually on his side and bent, with him, against his enemies. But who is there to give check to David and his military advance. Not the God of these Psalms, that’s for sure!

In my reading so far I’ve claimed that Matthew has set up a formidable case to his first Jewish readers for Jesus’ credentials as the Messiah. I’ve also claimed that he leads those readers into unfamiliar territory, a path between extremes: Jewish religion on one hand (with the Pharisees and Sadducees and their moral oppression) and Herod on the other (with his Roman collaboration and military oppression). Here in 8:1 – 16:12 we follow that path over the crest of the mountain of Jesus’ sermon and see a narrative vista unfurl into the distance that continues to confound and subvert. The fulfilment of the Law strolls down into the story-valley below as the character of the Galilean rebel.

Last night Barack Obama was inaugurated as the president of the United States, hailed as the first black leader of the free world. It was an historic moment; the dreams of activists like Martin Luther King jr became real on a balcony on Capitol Hill. But really, calling Barack Obama a ‘black’ president is somewhat misleading. His father was a black Kenyan, his mother a white American. He is of ‘dual heritage’, neither white nor black (or both black and white). Why then is Barack Obama described as ‘black’ the world over? He could just as easily be called ‘another white president’.

I have to say that of all the stories in the Old Testament, this one gets to me the most. An epic tale of dysfunctional brotherhood and the anguish felt by the now elderly Jacob, juxtaposed against an unlikely front-runner: the unstoppable Israelite prisoner. Crafted to literary perfection, I seriously recommend reading this whole section in one go; feel the ebbs and the flow; grasp the literary tools and themes: cloaks (Jacob’s gift to Joseph, Jacob’s payment to Tamar and Joseph’s unwitting incrimination in the hands of Potiphar’s wife); dreams (Joseph’s, servant’s, King’s); being true to your word (Judah fails Tamar, the Cupbearer fails Joseph, Joseph keeps true to all his promises – though not without playing with his brothers’ honour!) In my opinion, this is the section that, out of the whole Bible, most reflects the feel of a contemporary novel. No wonder it makes a great musical!

By the time that we reach chapter 4 and Jesus is led off into the desert for forty days, the reader of Matthew is agog with emotion. The gospel may have announced the Messiah, but – reading over forty years later – every Jew who listened to these words was overwhelmed with the reality of Roman religious oppression. Jerusalem’s temple was destroyed in 70 CE – an iconic statement of apocalyptic demise – and imperial persecution had intensified, for Jew and Christian alike. According to Josephus, over a million Jews perished during the siege of Jerusalem. The future of Jewish religion hung in the balance.

What options existed for the peasant Jew on the hillsides of Galilee? Religion offered nothing, only repression; Roman military muscle flexed against the establishment while the travelling bands of hyper-conservative Pharisees promulgated rules galore as the only valid plea against Yahweh’s silence. When people live without any real freedom their psychological wellbeing is tested to the limit.

As if to escape this crushing depression Jesus is led into the desert of Judea. Three chances to take control of his frugal circumstances are offered, but each is rejected. The temptation to force through change and gain the whole world is not something Jesus will do; it is at the risk of losing his soul, tantamount to suicide (or the throwing of oneself off the roof of the Temple). Instead – and this is where the fun really starts – he journeys back up north to backwaters of the province and gathers a motley crew of misfits and rebels; nobodies who could change the world.

I hope you’re enjoying reading these brilliant stories. We are going to look at the readings for Jan 6th – 17th; the stories of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

I love the beginning of this story. God just says to Abram ‘go!’ and Abram goes. He just gets up, takes his family and heads off into the great unknown. No guarantees, just belief.

My friends and I are trying to plan our annual Lord of the Rings-watching weekend. We love the story so much that we decided we’d watch all three films (extended editions) back to back, once a year. It’s a twelve hour epic, and it’s great! The thing that most captivates me about Lord of the Rings is the constant conflict the hobbits’ face between the need to journey on through great peril and discomfort to destroy the Ring and the desire to be back in the Shire, their idyllic homeland. I resonate so much with that internal conflict. On the one hand I want to be changing the world, whatever the cost. On the other, I’d rather sit at home with a cup of tea and cocoon myself away from the problems of life.

These opening chapters of Matthew evoke magical memories; glistening trees adorned in tinsel, children clad as makeshift shepherds. Only two weeks ago we were singing of Wise Men and angels, stables and starlight. The story that has arguably inspired more than any other begins here, in Matthew, bereft of commercial linings and full of reflective cheer.

It’s a well-rehearsed cliché that Matthew is the gospel for the Jews. But in these opening three chapters we find an account that is far more than ‘culturally relevant’ to Jewish readers. It is explosive, driving spikes deep into the Jewish psyche where it can set charges, ready to detonate meaning as the story progresses.

The first 17 verses of the New Testament are epic. The genealogy begins with Abraham, the father of all Jews, moves to David, whose covenant with Yahweh promised him an unbroken kingly line, and then shifts, via the Return from Exile to Jesus, the son of a humble carpenter. The entire Old Testament in just moments claims this child as its own. And then, as swiftly as we have flown over this narrative vista, we plunge down to earth, to a backwater town in rebellious Galilee and two young people locked in obscurity.

Creation, Adam & Eve, Cain & Abel, Noah, Tower of Babel: Heard it before, right? Me too, about a bezillion times! We're starting off this quest with some of the most famous passages in the whole Bible. And yet, I don't know about you, but I've still not tired of them. The reason is that, for me, they are some of the most brilliant pieces of theological writing ever penned. So creative, so inspiring, so liberating! Let me tell you why.

We need to take a little journey back to the ancient history books of the Middle East. You may never have heard of the Epic of Creation, or the Epics of the infamous hero Gilgamesh and the immortal Atrahasis, but by the time the Israelite exiles were in Babylon, (when most of Genesis began to be compiled) these were the local smash hits. They contain elaborate stories about local heroic kings, their victories, quests and their interaction with the various gods that were believed to rule over the region of Babylon. But for the early Israelites these Epics just didn't fit with their experience of the God who had brought them out of Egypt and established them as a new nation that was supposed to be different from the others. So they changed them.

Reading the whole Bible in one year is not easy. But it definitely is doable. Here are some tips from my experience. Please feel free to comment and add your own.

I've read the Bible in one year twice before. The first time I found a regular time for reading which became part of the rhythm of my day. The second time I decided to carve out chunks of time to read each book as a whole (although some of the bigger OT books defeated me in one sitting!) Whether you're planning to read the Old Testament, the New Testament, or both, finding time to read and sticking to it will be the biggest challenge. So if you haven't already, I'd suggest having a think about when you will do your readings so that you don't get overwhelmed after a few weeks and give up.

You might be used to reading the Bible in small chunks, reflecting on each verse, or word, and meditating on how God might be speaking to your life. That won't work with so many verses to get through - it just won't. This is especially true if you are reading the Old Testament. Parts of it are duller than watching paint dry, and others are utterly incomprehensible. In order to make it, you just have to keep reading and worry about meaning later. I found that the dull bits and the confusing bits came alive in the end, but only because I stuck with it and could look back on them afterwards and see where they fitted.

Congratulations! You've made it through 2009 and a whole year of reading. How was it? What did you enjoy / dislike? What did you see that you've never seen before? Did you make it, or flounder back in January? Whether you read the Old Testament, the New Testament, or both: please share your experiences here.